


Love Flakes

by Sweet_Mad_Dreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, So here it goes, a classic little christmas short story, a hella lot, harry loves Louis, louis loves harry, thanks for reading !, that's pretty much it, they're very cute and very in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_Mad_Dreamer/pseuds/Sweet_Mad_Dreamer
Summary: Original title : Flocons d'amourIt's Christmas and it's snowing, and then there's Louis and Harry who remember, on a hot chocolate and raspberry tea background.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 8





	Love Flakes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there ! Merry Christmas everyone !
> 
> So I've written this for Christmas a year ago (and yes, it took me that long to translate it). As you might have guessed, I'm French, and this is obviously a translation so please, be indulgent about the mistakes I made, and don't hesitate pointing them out at me ! I hope you'll enjoy this little story. All the love, M. xx

« Harry, Harry ! Come here, quick ! », called Louis’ voice from the living-room.

Harry dropped the sweatshirt he was folding and rushed downstairs, freaked out.

« What is it, what’s going on ? »

« It’s snowing ! »

He stopped short and looked at Louis, sitting at the edge of the window. He examined him tenderly. His frozen blue eyes, his blushed cheeks, his childish expression, the wide smile that was lighting up his face. Outside, delicate snowflakes were fluttering around, under Louis’ delighted gaze. He felt like he was suddenly taken back ten years ago. Harry grinned and embraced Louis, who had his nose stuck to the pane again. He laid his chin on his shoulder. Louis’ body was warm, and he scented like cinnamon.

« You smell so good », he murmured.

Louis giggled and leaned a bit more against his chest, so he would take in all the warmth he was giving off.

« I love you. »

Louis tilted his head back, and Harry left a chaste kiss on his lips. He smiled when Louis wrapped his hands around his neck to keep his mouth against his.

« I love you. »

They kissed for a while, squeezed up against each other.

« Do you know what day is today ? », muttered Harry against Louis’ lips. The latter one nodded, his eyes shining with love.

« It’s the tenth anniversary of the day we met. »

« You remember it ? »

« As if it was yesterday, my star. »

-

The bell tinkled as Louis pushed open _Chez Rosie_ ’s door. He admired the decoration from the doorstep. Tinsels were hung up pretty much everywhere, delicate snow globes were taking centre stage here and there, the air was filled with gingerbread and chocolate. The café’s atmosphere was warm and golden.

« Hello Louis ! », greeted Niall from behind the counter. Louis calmly smiled in return and waved at him before he sat at his usual table. From his seat, he could observe the whole café, and look outside if he felt like it. 

Louis was nineteen minus a bit, and he read too much. The fault in his arts faculty or in his mother who handed her passion down to him.

He studied the other costumers. Two teenagers were holding hands, their cheeks red, and were sharing a plateful of shortbread biscuits while dumbly smiling to each other. Three young girls were drinking their coffee and laughing, probably exchanging the last gossips and telling each other about the beginning of their holidays. A family, a couple of women and two children, were drinking and eating in a joyous and enthusiastic atmosphere. A lovely family, happy and solid.

« Hello, welcome _Chez Rosie_. I am Harry, how can I help you ? »

A voice took Louis out of his pensive contemplation. He tilted his head up to the young boy who was waiting beside him and took a few seconds to detail him. Pretty brown curls framed his juvenile face, lit up by two wide innocent green eyes. He was quite tall ; his legs seemed never-ending. He was wearing the required black apron characteristic of the café with tight black jeans and a pale pink T-shirt that was a bit oversized.

« Hello. I’ll have a raspberry tea and the ephemera pastry please. Is Liam not here ? »

The boy looked up from his notebook.

« No, he’s on vacation. I’m taking over him while he’s not working. »

Louis nodded and immersed himself again in his typical analysis. Next to the two teenagers were two elderly people who were slowly drinking their coffee, with small sips. They had probably been married for dozen of years. They met when they were young and beautiful, in the prime of life, and now that they were crinkled and their hands were shaking, they still loved each other. And they were still beautiful ; a bit wilted of a beauty, a bit cracked, yet still visible.

« Here’s your raspberry tea… »

The green-eyed boy took Louis out of his thoughts again and came closer to him. Louis looked at him carefully, while the boy -Harry, as he introduced himself- put with caution the cup in front of him. Probably frightened at the idea of spilling it.

« I asked for the ephemera pastry too. »

The waiter blushed.

« Oh ! I’m sorry, it’s my first day and I get lost with the orders… I am truly sorry, I’ll bring you that right away », he stuttered.

He turned round and went back to the counter. Louis observed him lifting an apple tartlet, placing in on a plate and livening it up with a small bowl of whipped cream and two heart-shaped candies. The Christmas’ madness apparently hadn’t reached Rosie’s pastries yet.

Louis drank a burning sip of his tea, and closed his eyes with satisfaction while it warmed up the inside of his body.

« Here ! I’m sorry for making you wait. Do you desire anything else ? »

Louis opened his eyes back on Harry who was patiently waiting for his answer. He was beautiful, this boy. A delicate and unreal beauty, a little blurry.

« You. »

To the sight of the boy’s redden cheeks and the spectacular width of his eyes, Louis thought he should have been more subtil. By dint of living in his books and his dreams, he ended up not knowing anymore how to play of the delicates conventions that ruled the interactions between human beings. It was unfortunate, et it annoyed him terribly.

« I mean, would you like to take your break with me ? You can get whatever you want, it’s on me », he picked up again.

« Oh », blushed Harry. « It would have been with great pleasure, but I don’t think I’m allowed to take my break when I want, not to mention with costumers. »

« Niall ! », called Louis.

The aforenamed man picked his head up of his coffees and raised his eyebrows.

« Harry takes his break with me, yeah ? »

Niall had a crooked grin when noticed Harry next to his friend and waved his hand as to say « if it amuses you ».

« See ? Come on, go get yourself a drink and come sit with me. »

Harry nodded and drew away stumbling, to get back a couple of minutes later with a hot chocolate. He sat shyly on the chair near Louis and stared intensely the surface of his drink, not daring looking at him. 

« I’m not going to eat you, you know », said Louis on an amused tone. « I largely prefer Rosie’s pastries », he added, biting in his tartlet.

Harry picked his head up and gave him a faint smile.

« I… »

Louis observed him from above his cup of tea, his eternal smile on the lips. Harry appeared to him like a baby fawn : clumsy, shy, and adorable.

« I don’t know your name », he finally muttered, once again lowering his eyes on the table at the end of his sentence.

Louis leaned towards him and picked his chin up in a delicate gesture.

« Louis », he smiled.

And Harry smiled too, a bit more frankly this time.

« Harry, your break is over ! Time to get back to work ! », shouted Niall.

He stood up hurriedly, clearing his half empty cup and blushing once again. Perhaps because Louis’ spiky blue eyes wouldn’t let go of him, not even when he went behind the counter again and started serving the other costumers. He still felt Louis’ intense glare burning, him, his body his skin his soul like he could see through it.

***

« Hi Niall ! », shouted Louis as he pushed _Chez Rosie_ ’s door. The young man smiled widely and waved at him.

The temperatures had dropped the latest days, and the cold was getting felt. Louis’ cheeks were redden by the winter and he felt a regenerative warmth infiltrate though his clothes when he sat at his table. He took off his coat and pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt on his hands before blowing on them to warm them up.

« Raspberry tea and the ephemera pastry ? », asked he voice he immediately recognized.

« Yes, please », he smiled at Harry. « And a hot chocolate. »

« Waiting for someone ? », enquired the boy without taking his eyes off his notebook. He was writing with diligence the order, his tongue stuck between his teeth.

« No, it’s for you. »

He raised his head, surprised. Louis had come back a couple times since his first day, and he had never proposed him to drink something with him ever since. He wasn’t expecting him to do it again and Louis sensed his agitation.

« You’re not allowed to say no », he added with a large smile.

« Ah », laughed Harry. « With pleasure, then. »

Louis gazed at the few persons enjoying a biscuit or a coffee, smile on the lips. He felt the heat and the joy irradiate from them. That’s what he called affectionately the Rosie effect : delicious drinks, hot in winter and frozen in summer, tasty pastries and other viennoiseries, a welcoming and reassuring ambiance at any time, whether it rained, winded, snowed or the sun shined. And he quite liked that a lot, Louis. Especially in winter.

Harry put his cup and his slice of yule log in front of him, and Louis hurried to envelop the cup with his frozen hands to warm them up. He let out a sigh of pleasure when he felt the boiling porcelain piercing the numbing shell at the top of his fingers.

Harry was observing him, leaned against the back of his chair. He grinned when he saw Louis had noticed him watching him.

« You have such small hands. »

Louis didn’t know how to react. It was so rare. Louis had a sharpened spirit, a vivid tongue and acerbic words. Harry confused him and let him flabbergasted. Perhaps that was why he felt so irremediably drown to him. Without knowing, Harry overwhelmed him, and his habits.

So Louis bursted in laughter. And Harry, though perplexed, followed him almost instantly.

***  
  
« _… Tout le soleil sur la terre sur les chemins de ta beauté.* »_

_(All the sun on the earth on the paths of your beauty)_

Harry listened with admiration, his hands wrapped around his hot chocolate. His eyes shined as Louis talked.

“ Is it yours ?”, he asked.

“No, it’s Paul Eluard's. Admirable author of the XXth century. One of the founders of the Surrealism.”

Louis, whose eyes had gotten lost as he recited, crossed Harry’s tender green gaze.

“Sorry”, he apologized, his cheeks red, looking down. “I talk too much when it’s about literature.”

“No !”, exclaimed Harry, which made him look up. “No, don’t apologize. I enjoy a lot hearing you talking about poetry. Do you know other poems ?”

A thin smile painted on Louis’ lips. It was rare people understanding his love for the words. When he was discussing literature, especially poetry, his face was lighting up, his eyes were shining and a fresh new passion was inhabiting him. He could have discoursed on it for hours on end, without ever getting tired of it. And it was possible that Harry could have listened to him all along, without ever failing in.

« Yes. My favorite century is the XIXth. Ah, Romanticism… Lamartine, Hugo, Musset, Beaudelaire, although that dear Charles wasn't really classifiable. And Symbolism, of course, Rimbaud and Verlaine, the cursed lovers, two great poets who loved and probably hated each other, ending up destroying themselves. »

He closed his eyes, as for better immersing himself in the poem, while he declaimed.

« _Elle est retrouvée. Quoi ? -L’Éternité. C’est la mer allée avec le soleil. Âme sentinelle, murmurons l’aveu de la nuit si nulle et du jour en feu. Des humains suffrages, des communs élans, là tu te dégages et voles selon. Puisque de vous seules, braises de satin, le Devoir s’exhale sans qu’on dise : enfin. Là pas d’espérances, nul orietur. Science avec patience, le supplice est sûr. Elle est retrouvée. Quoi ? -L’Éternité. C’est la mer allée avec le soleil.**_ »

_(She’s found again. What ? -Eternity. It’s the sea gone with the sun. Sentinel soul, let’s whisper the avowal of the so nonexistent night and of the day on fire. Of the human votes, of the shared momentums, there you free yourself and fly along. As from you only, embers of satin, the Duty exhales without being said : at last. There no expectancies, no orietur. Science with patience, the affliction is sure. She’s found again. What ? -Eternity. It’s the sea gone with the sun.)_

His voice was sometimes thrilling with strength and emotion, sometimes decreased to a breath. he was living the poem, feeling the verse, the words, all of it made sense to him.

He was beautiful, this way. A cup of hot raspberry tea in between his cold little hands, lips moving to the rhythm of the words, Harry’s fire gaze lost on him.

Time was an abstrait and complex notion. And above all, very paradoxical. Because at Rosie’s, it seemed to sometimes stretch endlessly, as if it didn't elapse at the same rhythm it did outside, as if everything was a little anesthetized ; sometimes fleeting, the hours being minutes and the minutes seconds, always escaping faster. Deep down, everything -life, souvenirs, time- could be summed up to a CD. Time was a CD : when you pressed pause, it stopped, and if you pressed fast forward, it flew by without you seeing it.

While Louis was declaiming and Harry was listening, it appeared well to them they were outside of time, and the entire world was theirs to make theirs.

As usual, Harry saw Louis to the door and stepped outside with him. He was shivering, in his black hoodie and his apron. It was snowing.

« When are you coming back ? », he asked, chattering.

« In two days, I suppose. I can’t tomorrow but the day after it should be possible. »

Harry smiled shyly, trying painstakingly to hold back a dazzling smile. He liked that feeling, that shiver running on his bones, that Louis came to see him, that he went to the café because he enjoyed his company, and not only the unequalled taste of the raspberry’s tea from _Chez Rosie_.

« May I do something senseless ? »

Louis had talked so lowly that Harry almost didn't hear him. He shivered again, but not from the cold this time.

« What is it ? », he whispered. Without them wanting, like pushed by a mysterious force, their bodies had drawn themselves closer. Harry could sense the heat Louis was exhaling on his skin. And something like desire irradiate from his whole body.

Louis swooped on him, putting with authority his forever cold hands on his cheek and neck to get his mouth closer to his, and devour it with a kiss.

Harry let himself being carried away by the turbulence of new and exciting sensations that were rushing down his spine. He gripped Louis’ hips, clinging onto him not to founder, like his last anchoring point with reality.

Louis’ lips were soft and sugared, like a dream. His tongue tasted of raspberry and yule log, as if someone had mixed summer and winter in one unique taste to put it on Louis’ tongue. And the softness of the snow was slipping in their kiss ; the snowflakes were freezing their senses and multiplying them at the same time.

Harry’s eyes were resolutely closed, and he never wanted to open them again, not to break the magical illusion he was given into. He wanted to lose himself body and soul in that kiss, in that moment.

Time did its work, letting him savor Louis during what seemed like hours to him.

And unlike everything he had feared, when Louis backed off, carmine cheeks and short breath, millions of stars in the eyes, the magic was not broken. The tranquil softness of the moment was going on and stretching into infinite, as Louis drew his still frozen fingers on Harry’s burnt cheek.

Their mouths were still close, ecstatically brushing against the other, while they contemplated each other without neither of them wanting to break their embrace.

***

« Hello my star », soughed Louis in Harry’s ear before pecking his lips. Harry jumped with surprise and blushed, under the effect of Louis’ unexpected entrance.

« Hello Louis », he shyly whispered.

« I’m going to sit at our table and you’ll join me, yeah ? », Louis asked, letting his freezing hand dawdle on Harry’s nape, sending electric shocks through his whole body.

Harry nodded and Louis drew away after an ultimate kiss in his neck. Harry caught Niall’s amused and slightly teasing eyes and he lowered his head, embarrassed he had seen them.

« You’re on break for twenty minutes, Harry. »

« Thanks, Niall », he answered with a large smile. He hastened to make their usual light meal before sitting next to Louis.

The latter had refolded the sleeves of his oversized hoodie on his fingers to warm them up. His blue eyes were staring at something beyond the window, maybe even beyond the town. When Harry called him, he seemed to slowly awake from a distant dream and shook himself. His so light eyes became cheerful again and he seized Harry’s hand to drop a kiss in the crease of his palm.

« So my star, what are you becoming ? »

Louis smiled from seeing Harry blush with the nickname.

« Not much. Niall gave me a time off tomorrow and the day after, for the festive period. He’s hesitating over closing the café for the two days. Him too would like to see his family. »

« I had forgotten. It’s true, we’re already the twenty third of December. You’re going to celebrate Christmas with yours ? », Louis asked without pecking his hand.

« Yes. It’s very important to my mum. Christmas, I mean. Time of forgiveness. Time of sharing and loving. And what’s more important that the love uniting a family ? »

« What, indeed ? », whispered Louis. He was still holding Harry’s hand to his lips, but his eyes weren’t smiling anymore. They had dressed themselves with all the sadness in the world.

« Everything’s alright, Lou ? », Harry worried, leaning towards Louis. He drew his miserable eyes up to him and smiled sadly.

« Yes, don’t worry. It’s just that… My mum loved Christmas. With a large family like ours -I’ve told you about all my brother and sisters-, the house was all laughters, crumpled papers and candies at the time. The air was filled with ginger bread and Christmas tree, and there was that golden and enchanting who-knows-what that characterize Christmas floating around. »

He broke off, and Harry didn’t say anything, simply squeezing his hand in his. Louis let a reverential silence linger a few moments before going on.

« Last year… Last year, Mum wasn’t there for Christmas. Nor for my birthday. The house remained sad, dark and frozen. She died on December the seventh. Exactly seventeen days before Christmas and the day i turned eighteen. »

A tear rolled down his cheek. Harry delicately caught it with his thumb before pulling Louis towards him. He tenderly fondled his hair et Louis cuddled up to him, sobbing softly against his shoulder.

« Hey angel… Hey… »

They remained a long time squeezed up against each other, Harry slightly rocking back and forth with Louis, pouring out a thousand of reassuring caresses.

He eventually straightened up, wiping out his tears with the back of his hand - as if they were from rage and not from pain. _« Thank you »_ , whispered his eyes. Harry smiled at him and petted the back of his hand with his thumb.

They were staring at each other, letting their eyes express everything they couldn’t say.

« Would you want to have dinner with my family tomorrow ? », Harry asked, unsure.

Louis, unfathomable, scrutinized him for a moment. Then he shook his head.

« No. Sorry, Harry, but I can’t leave my family on such a day. It’s funny, somehow. We’re sadder at Christmas than we are on the anniversary of her death. Maybe because she was the one to make Christmas so magical and special for all of us. She filled the entire house and our hearts with her presence. We used to see her, everywhere, all the time, taking golden cookies out of the oven and wrapping our presents in shiny paper. She was there. Et we deeply feel that she’s not anymore at this time she loved so much. »

Harry let him have a couple seconds, enough time for the souvenir of his mother to vanish a little.

« Your sisters, your brother and your father would be welcomed. I’m not forcing you into anything ; just know that you are wanted, and if you wish so your family and you can spend Christmas with mine. My mother would be absolutely delighted to have people over for dinner - she claims all the time that people are too closed up on themselves. As for me », he added in a lower tone, « I’d be more than pleased and honored to introduce you to my family. But I certainly don’t want to force your hand », he tenderly said, lightly squeezing Louis’ hand.

Louis stared at him for a while, head lightly tilted and unreadable eyes ; too long of a while, without a doubt, since Harry eventually looked away and lowered his head on their still tangled hands.

« My star… », called Louis softly. « Thanks a million. »

Harry raised his eyes to him ; his sparkling, full of tenderness and love, laughters, childishness and joy eyes.

He leaned into Louis, laughing, and the kiss he gave him tasted like love, apple, laughter and snow.

And Louis was laughing too, his sadness quickly swept away by Harry and his curls, his hot chocolates and his green eyes that made you dream.

When they both opened their eyes to gaze a each other, Louis’ blue ones reflected so much love, passion and promises that Harry’s heart capsized a little more.

***

Christmas had been full of surprises, that year. A hurricane of sisters and peals of laughters mixed. A scent of fir and of roast had floated in the air, and the ambience had never been so joyful.

The living room was almost empty now. They had all gone to bed, exhausted. Exception made of Harry and Louis.

The fire was crackling in the hearth. All that remained of it were a few glowing embers.

In the middle of the crumpled and torn papers, cheeks reddened from the wine they had drank and the wintery heat of the house, stood Harry and Louis. They were sitting in one of the comfortable leather armchairs that were enthroned in the room, Louis curled up to Harry and wrapped up in his arms as much as in his love.

« It was a beautiful evening, wasn’t it ? », murmured Harry, eyes half-closed. The fatigue was making itself be felt for him too, and it wouldn’t be long before he started sinking into sleep as well.

« Wonderful. Thank you, my star. I love you. »

Harry’s heart panicked at his _« I love you »_. He knew he would never get bored of it. He had had one taste of it, and now he wanted to hear his spellbinding voice say them every day, those so precious three words.

« I love you, angel », he answered, holding him a little closer to his heart. Louis grinned without a word, and adverted his gaze towards the window.

« Look, it’s snowing. »

Delicate snowflakes were whirling in the night. It was so cold they would last at least until the following day. Harry was already dreaming of the walk in the forest he would take holding hands with Louis, where silence would only be troubled by the screeching of the snow underneath their feet and the melody of their kissing.

No more doubts allowed : Christmas was magical, Harry was sure of it. And maybe Louis a little bit too.

« Merry Christmas my star. »

« Merry Christmas my angel. »

And perhaps, perhaps they fell asleep right there, gazing at the snow that unceasingly fell down as the fire died.

-

« I spent the ten best years of my life with you. I love you so much, my star. I love you harder than the snow », declared Louis, pressing his nose against Harry’s neck.

« I love you even more, angel. I don’t have the words to tell you, but I hope you know how much i love you. »

« No, I don’t. How much ? », teased Louis, who laid his head against Harry’s shoulder so he could keep admiring the otherworldly and déja-vu tasting like show that was playing outside.

« Infinitely », Harry affirmed, hugging Louis a bit tighter.

« Infinitely ? »

« No, even more than that. I love you infinitely plus one. And I’m damn well hoping to be spending the next ten years with you. Loving you each day, and each day a bit more than the one before. »

« And the next ten too. You know what ? I want to start it all over again. Start loving you again, and again, learn your body your skin you soul again, infinitely. And when I’ll know them by heart again, when I’ll be able to draw their edges again, I’ll do it all over again. »

« See, I can’t compete when you say things like these. But, my angel, be certain, I want to spend all the years I have left of my life right next to you. I love you. »

« I love you, my star. I love you until the day I die, and even after. »

And the kiss they shared then tasted like infinite, Christmas and love, a love so strong and so shimmering it could have melted even the most tenacious snow.

* La terre est bleue comme une orange, _L’amour la Poésie_ , Paul Éluard

** L’Éternité, _Derniers vers_ , Arthur Rimbaud


End file.
